Get those butts out of the sand

Published 4:00 am, Friday, September 13, 1996

1996-09-13 04:00:00 PDT CALIFORNIA -- WHEN volunteers picked up 204,544 cigarette butts a year ago during the annual statewide beach cleanup, many nonsmokers had to wonder: Are smokers really so benumbed to the world that they just toss their butts on the beach without regard for anything?

Actually, it often doesn't work that way, according to Amy Wiens of the Coastal Commission. She said many smokers are unaware that every time they flick a butt on a city street, sidewalk or parking lot, that it is likely to eventually end up on the beach. How? Because those butts eventually get washed into storm drains, then are carried to the Bay or directly out to sea - then with an incoming high tide, wash up on the beach.

That is why even though only 17 percent of the population in California smokes, cigarette butts account for almost half of the items collected in the annual statewide beach cleanup. This year's cleanup, the 12th annual, is called Adopt-a-Beach by the California Coastal Commission, and is scheduled for next Saturday, Sept. 21, 9 a.m. to noon, with more than 35,000 volunteers expected to participate.

Wiens, who is the volunteer coordinator for the Adopt-a-Beach program, said cigarette butts take an average of 25 years to decompose.

In the Bay Area, cleanup efforts will extend beyond coastal beaches to the shoreline of San Francisco Bay and some regional parklands, creeks and lakes. To take part, call one of the numbers listed below to reach a coordinator.

Since the Adopt-a-Beach program started in 1985, it has become a growing phenomenon, not only with increased participation and effectiveness - with growing stupefaction over how litterbugs can be so doltish.

Some of the littering is out of sheer ignorance. Some people are unaware that anything discarded must go somewhere, and in the Bay Area that often means washed down a storm drain and carried to the Bay or ocean. Others are simple idiots and should be arrested and punished.

In the past month at Ocean Beach, I saw a woman park her car and gaze at the ocean for a bit, then roll her window down and dump an ashtray with about 25 cigarette butts on the ground. I immediately went over and asked her what the hell she thought she was doing, and she mumbled something about "None of your business . . . it'll go away." She then called me a name, rolled up her window and drove off.

On the Peninsula, at the parking lot of a fast-food joint, I saw another woman, also parked, suddenly dump her fast-food garbage right out the window on the ground. I went straight over, picked up her bags, and tossed them through the open window right back on her lap, to which she said she was going to kill me, or words to that effect.

In another episode last week, just as I walked up to the lookout bench on the Montara Mountain Trail at San Pedro Park in Pacifica, a smoker flicked a lit butt on the trail, squished it with his foot, then started to leave.

"Wait," I shouted, "you left your cigarette butt on the trail."

"So what the hell do you expect me to do with it?" he countered.

Why pick it up, carry it out, then dispose of it in a trash bin, of course. Better yet, never smoke in a park, especially never smoke on a trail and, of course, never discard a butt anywhere, especially in an area so vulnerable to wildfire. Unfortunately, as the rusted gears of this fellow's brain attempted to mesh, turn and operate in order to digest this information, they jammed, rendering him unable to do anything but mumble something unintelligible and then leave.

One of the sidelights of the Adopt-a-Beach program is joining with other enlightened souls who never litter and pick up after those who do, then trading stories about the worst offenders they have ever seen. What you discover, time and time again, is that the anger directed toward litterbugs, especially careless smokers, is as intense as that against any group of lawbreakers on the planet Earth.

In last year's cleanup program, seabirds were found entangled in discarded fishing line, crabs and birds were found in washed-up plastic bags, and in a bizarre case, a dead sea gull was found entangled in a condom. Items picked up included lipstick cases, old televisions, car batteries and other car parts, diapers and even an old stove, a water heater and an athlete's protective cup.

After cigarette butts, the most common items were foamed plastic pieces and paper waste from junk-food restaurants.

"People do not seem to understand that . . . what is thrown away in cities, often many miles away from the beaches, still has a direct effect on our coastline," says Wiens.

"Some of these effects can be seen immediately, such as animal entrapments. Others suffer in ways we can less easily detect. For instance, turtles and marine mammals are known to ingest plastic bags or balloons because they resemble jellyfish. This can cause starvation."

Ten years ago, when I broke my ankle while hiking the John Muir Trail, an injury that required two surgeries, I remember resolving that if I could ever hike again, I'd not only try to hike all over California, but that I'd pick up every piece of litter I came across. I've done as well as I could muster on both counts, but the litterbugs just keep on defiling the Earth faster than I can pick up their debris.

It takes everybody to pitch in and pick up, and try to give mindless litterbugs a wake-up call.